


Lost and Found

by Traincat



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 23:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10841688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traincat/pseuds/Traincat
Summary: “A field trip?” Peter said.“Just a little family outing,” Sue said, passing him a knife. He took it and obediently started helping her cut the crusts off a small mountain of sandwiches. “We thought you might like to join us.”“I mean, it sounds great,” Peter said. “But work is a little swamped and somehow whenever I take off with you guys I always manage to go missing for two months. My landlady does not love it.”“We really could use the extra set of hands. Also,” Sue said, “someone needs to keep an eye on Johnny.”Peter groaned.--Peter's spider-sense starts acting up on a Future Foundation field trip. He and Johnny, recently returned from the Negative Zone, have to pretend to be married. These two things are related.





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> For Spideytorch Week's alternate theme: Protectiveness/Comfort. Takes place after Johnny's return from the Negative Zone, during the brief period of time where Peter stayed on the team.
> 
> Saaaaap. It's pure, 100% Grade A sap. It's post-Negative Zone fic, so that's not shocking from me. This is like, the flimsiest pretending to be married excuse ever, but guys. I want things.

“A field trip?” Peter said.

“Just a little family outing,” Sue said, passing him a knife. He took it and obediently started helping her cut the crusts off a small mountain of sandwiches. “We thought you might like to join us.”

“I mean, it sounds great,” Peter said. “But work is a little swamped and somehow whenever I take off with you guys I always manage to go missing for two months. My landlady does not love it.”

“We really could use the extra set of hands. Also,” Sue said, “someone needs to keep an eye on Johnny.”

Peter groaned.

“Fine. But there had better be extra turkey, no mayo in there for me.”

 

* * *

 

Calypso III had two suns and reminded Peter a lot of California, though that might have been Johnny’s expensive sunglasses talking. He didn’t match the rest of the family, all dressed in their white and black uniforms. Instead he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that had both obviously come pre-torn. Peter didn't even want to think about how much he'd paid for them, let alone linger on how good Johnny looked.

His face had lit up when Peter had joined the family in the hangar, but then they’d both immediately been beset by children. Franklin and Leech had latched onto Johnny, and the Moloids had decided Peter made the world’s best climbing gym, and they’d rolled their eyes at each other as they’d boarded the ship.

It was fine. They’d have time later. Johnny was back from the Negative Zone and they were going to space together for the second time in a month and so, for the moment, all felt right with the world.

Life with the Fantastic Four in a nutshell.

They were perusing an open air mall that reminded Peter a little of Union Square’s holiday market. He was leaning over Valeria, listening as she explained the planet’s history to him, when his spider-sense buzzed, quick and insistent. He looked around, pulling Val back against him a little bit – she didn’t so much as blink, either too engrossed in her history lesson or too used to him being weird. But there was no danger as far as he could tell; just shoppers, going about their day.

Then Johnny yelped. The buzzing in Peter’s head doubled; he swung Val behind him, turning towards Johnny.

Johnny had been browsing a stall filled with, go figure, shiny things across the way. Now he was pinned against it by a large grayish purple alien with long white hair and a pair of intimidating-looking tusks. The alien was almost as large as Ben, and Johnny looked small in his shadow.

The alien’s hand was sliding up the back of Johnny’s thigh, possessive.

Peter moved without thinking. Before he knew it, he had crossed the way, grabbed that huge wrist and wrenched the alien’s arm back, away from Johnny. Maybe he’d used a little more force than strictly necessary, but Peter had never liked guys who took liberties and the startled noise Johnny had made was echoing around in his head, blocking out all other thoughts. His long fingers couldn't close around the thick wrist, but it didn’t stop him from squeezing hard enough to hear a crack.

“Hey, look with your eyes, not with your hands,” he snapped. “Better yet, don’t look at all!”

The alien made a keening sort of noise, struggling in Peter’s grip. He was obviously nowhere near strong enough to break it. “My arm!”

“Well, that’s what you get, grabby,” Peter said, releasing the alien and sending him sprawling into a nearby fabric stall. It toppled over along with him.

“Pete,” Johnny breathed, eyes wide. “What was that?”

“Nothing, that was – look, I wouldn’t let anybody grab you in New York, I’m not going to let anybody grab you here,” he said, furious.

“I was handling it on my own!” Johnny said.

“That’s not what it looked like to me!” Peter said. His spider-sense buzzed; he titled his head to the side. “Are those sirens?”

There were, in fact, sirens coming from above as a trio of small silver vehicles descended. Peter had never been to this planet before, but he knew a police car when he saw it.

“Ohhh no,” he said.

“Oh geez,” Johnny said, putting his hand over his face.

“You have more experience with space stuff than me, Torch,” Peter said, “but this is bad, right?”

“Yes, you idiot,” Johnny said as officers in chrome and blue uniforms exited their vehicles. “This is bad.”

“Johnny? Spider-Man?” Sue said, coming over. “What’s going on?”

“Visitor,” one of alien cops said, pointing a weapon in Peter’s direction. “You’re under arrest for assault of the honorable --” here, the officer said a name that had too many buzzes for Peter to keep track of, but he took it to mean the jerk who’d grabbed Johnny “— and you will come with us.”

The practical part of Peter – the part that sounded like his aunt and that he only ever seemed to listen to after the fact – realized that he had probably only made things worse, than he should’ve let the Fantastic Four, all save Ben more level-headed than him, handle the situation. They were intergalactic diplomats; they knew how to diffuse things.

Peter, meanwhile, had never been able to so much as go to the store without getting himself into a brawl. Must have been one aggressive spider that bit him, he thought, chagrined, as he cooperatively put his empty hands in the air.

A fun field trip to another solar system for the children, Sue had said when the whole Foundation had left that morning. An outing for the whole family and a chance to spend some quality time together.

Now the whole family was watching Spider-Man get arrested.

“Best. Field trip. Ever,” said Bentley.

 

* * *

 

“Can I just point out,” Johnny said, for at least the eighth time, “that you are a complete, total, gigantic _moron_?”

Peter, sitting behind the force field with his arms crossed defensively over his chest, muttered something deeply unkind.

“A diplomat’s son, Peter!” Johnny raged, hands thrown in the air. Sue sat next to him, watching his tirade – Peter had expected the scolding from her, but Johnny had been the one to go in for the attack the moment they’d entered the room, practically incandescent. Sue looked faintly proud.

“A diplomat’s son who _grabbed at you_ \--” Peter countered, angry heat rising to his face. He was sure he was bright red, and just his luck they’d taken his mask.

“At me! The Human Torch!” Johnny said. “Do you think I can’t protect myself? Is that it?”

“Of course that’s not it!” Peter bit back, only to be interrupted when Johnny continued.

“Because I’ve been taking care of myself these past two years. Some spoiled brat hitting on me? You think I can’t handle that?”

There were sparks in Johnny’s eyes. Peter took a sharp breath in through his teeth.

“What _I_ think, if you could stop being in love with the sound of your own voice for long enough to let me talk, is that you shouldn’t _have_ to,” Peter cut in furiously. “But no, that’s fine! Throw wild accusations at me when I was just trying to help! What else is new!”

Johnny gaped at him, face flushed and steam almost visibly rising from his ears, and Peter steadied himself for the rant.

It never came. Abruptly, the force field dropped. Peter didn’t have time to wonder why before the door opened and a guard walked in with Reed.

“He’s free to go,” the guard said, sounding bored.

“Wait,” Peter said. “I am?”

“We’re very lucky,” Reed said, very slowly and distinctly. He was making aggressive eye contact with Peter. “This district has very strict laws about assaulting someone else’s spouse.”

“Someone else’s what now?” Peter said.

Johnny clued in first, if the way he lunged for Peter’s shackled hands was any indication.

“Right! Peter was just being a good husband,” he said. Peter blinked. Johnny continued, louder, “To me. A good husband to me. Because we’re married. Because _you’re in space jail._ ”

“Oh,” Sue said, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Oh, no.”

“Oh yes,” Reed said.

“Oh,” said Peter, simply, the pieces clicking in his mind. “Right, uh. Snookums.”

Johnny stared at him like he was an idiot, which was more or less par for the course.

“Sweetheart?” Peter tried instead. “Darling dearest light of my life?”

“You know what?” Johnny said to Sue. “We can just leave him.”

 

* * *

 

Peter was kept a while longer while paperwork was filed, and, he suspected, faked by Reed. Johnny stayed glued to his side, uncharacteristically silent, leg bouncing up and down. Occasionally, he shot Peter a look, as if to remind him whose fault it was they were in this situation in the first place, as if Peter wasn’t well aware.

“Which of the children are yours?” the guard asked as she sorted through Peter’s things, returning the mask and the webshooters. There was an interested click in her voice; Reed, behind her, was gesturing furiously at him to play along. Peter squinted at the kids.

“That one,” he said, pointing at Bentley.

The things he did to get his stuff back.

“Just the one?”

The guard sounded disapproving. Peter missed Earth.

“We’re, uh,” he said. “You know. Young.”

“Mm,” she said, judgmentally. “You’re free to go now.”

“Thanks,” Peter said. “And, um. Sorry.”

“Really?” Johnny whispered as Peter joined him. “All of the kids, and you pick Bentley?”

“He’s sort of got my hair color,” Peter grumbled.

And then they were back out into the stifling air again. Peter took it as the last sign of Johnny’s annoyance that he was forced to deal with the actual temperature. Normally Johnny acted like Peter’s own personal climate control in hot weather, an unspoken agreement between them ever since the time with the glow monster in Puerto Rico.

“Sorry,” he said, mostly to Reed. He refused to apologize to Johnny for caring about him enough to watch out for him, even if he was confused about what that rogue blare of his spider-sense had been for. “Guess I ruined the trip.”

“It’s all right,” Reed said, sighing. He reached out, arm stretching behind both Sue and Johnny, to squeeze Peter’s shoulder. “There was no real harm done. And the children did get to explore the judicial system of this district!”

The kids looked less thrilled about that than Reed.

“So what now?” Ben said, rocky brows raised high. “We pack it up before someone realizes the bug ain’t actually Johnny’s beau?”

Johnny stuck his tongue out at Ben, fishing his sunglasses off the neck of his shirt and sliding them back onto his face.

“ _Dad_!” Valeria whined, hitting a pitch mostly audible to dogs as she latched onto Reed’s hand. “You promised we’d see the crystal gardens!”

“We did already pay for the accommodations,” Sue pointed out. “And since Peter’s not actually under arrest anymore…”

“This is going to be a thing, isn’t it?” Peter cut in. “Every time I say something from now on, it’s going to be, remember when Peter got arrested in alien territory?”

“Oh yeah,” Johnny said.

“For defending _your_ honor,” Peter pointed out.

Johnny slid his sunglasses down to stare at him with his eyebrows raised. “What honor?”

Ben snickered. Peter felt his face get hot; he pulled on the mask, even though there wasn’t much point to it now.

“Just,” Reed said, staring at them and sighing, “try to pretend like you’re together until we leave the planet, then? The crystal gardens really are a spectacular sight, and if we miss them today it’ll be another five years before we have the chance to see them.”

“Come on, devoted husband,” Johnny said, sliding his hand into the crook of Peter’s elbow. Coolness seeped into the air around Peter and he sighed, considering himself forgiven. Johnny snagged a struggling Bentley by the back of his t-shirt with his other hand. “You can tell me all about how chivalrous you are on the way to Reed’s terrible garden tour.”

 

* * *

 

It was disturbingly easy to be Johnny’s husband. Peter supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; it had always been disturbingly easy to be Johnny’s anything. Teenage mortal enemy, best friend, blood brother. Fake husband was just one more role between them, something they’d laugh about in a couple of years.

If Peter survived the Bentley-23 experience first.

“I’m going to be a supervillain,” he told Peter for roughly the eightieth time since Peter had first dodged a suction cup arrow in the Baxter Building hallway, his first encounter with the Wizard’s tiny clone.

“Don’t you want to be a dentist, maybe?” Peter said. “They strike fear into the hearts of men and keep better hours.”

Bentley demonstrated what he thought about that with a move he’d probably learned out of a Jackie Chan movie. It was like getting hit by a kitten.

“Supervillain,” he repeated. Johnny pretended not to laugh at them.

“That’s nice,” Peter said, snagging him as he tried to turn left while the rest of the group turned right. “But you must be yea tall to fight the Spider-Man.”

“You know what’s a good word? Patricide,” Bentley said, throwing his head back to smile, gap-toothed, at Peter. He then proceeded to spell it.

“Is this happening?” Peter asked Johnny. “Are you seeing this? I am being threatened by a five-year-old.”

“So he’s about as emotionally mature as the rest of your rogue’s gallery,” Johnny said, barely batting an eyelash.

“I think you mean _our_ rogue’s gallery,” Peter said. “You get half of them. That’s how marriage works.”

“See?” Johnny said. “We can totally do this married thing. We’ve got the banter down and everything.”

The family had other ideas.

“Put your arm around him,” Sue suggested to Peter. “Smile at him more.”

“Nod when he speaks,” Reed said. “And actually listen.”

“Can you two not tell my fake husband how to act?” Johnny said, rolling his eyes.

“Commence the smooching!” chorused the Moloids, loudly enough to make several pedestrians glance their way.

“Yeah, how about we don’t,” Peter said. “PDA and all that.”

“Stop being such a baby,” Johnny said, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders and dragging him in. He planted a kiss against his cheek. “There.”

“Acceptable,” intoned Turg gravely.

It had been a very long time since Peter had thought before putting his arm around Johnny’s shoulder, a guiding hand at his back. A handful of times when Johnny had been in his way in the past Peter had just grabbed him up around the waist and set him to the side, never mind the shouting. Johnny had fallen asleep during movie night once, leaning heavily on Peter’s shoulder, and it had been natural for Peter to wrap an arm around him.

He was _used_ to touching Johnny. It shouldn’t have suddenly made his palms tingle, made him notice the way Johnny leaned into him. Natural, like they fit together, a pair of matching puzzle pieces.

Johnny smiled at him, and it was only his spider-sense that kept Peter from tripping on an unexpected step.

 

* * *

 

There were perks to traveling with the Fantastic Four. The sheer breadth of what they saw, of course – alien planets, other dimensions, micro-worlds, and all the amazing discoveries they’d made, the leaps and bounds in science.

But also Peter sure couldn’t have footed the bill for a five star hotel on another planet on his lonesome.

It was late by the time they got to the hotel, having stopped for dinner at a restaurant overlooking a green sea. Johnny had stolen half of Peter's food, and whenever Peter had tried to stop him Johnny had just looked him in the eye and said, "You knew who I was when you married me."

Peter had given up long before dessert, just shoving his plate between the two of them and letting Johnny do whatever he wanted. It felt nostalgic.

They split the kids up into groups – the Moloids wouldn’t be pried from Ben for hell or high water, though Onome and Alex agreed to help out. Franklin, Vil, and Wu stayed with Reed and Sue. That left Johnny and Peter with Bentley and Valeria.

“Be honest,” Peter said to Sue. “You’ve always hated me.”

She patted his cheek. “It could be a prison cell, you know.”

“I was defending your brother’s honor!” he repeated for the umpteenth time.

“What honor?” Sue tossed over her shoulder, ushering the fish kids down the hall.

“Spidey? You planning to sleep in the hall?” Johnny called. He had Val hoisted on one hip; halfway through the crystal gardens she’d decided that walking was for suckers. Ben had tried to take her once but she stubbornly clung to Johnny, the designer holes in his three hundred dollar shirt transformed into toddler handholds.

Peter got it. It had been so hard to let Johnny out of his sight during that first fight, when Johnny had crossed back through the gate. It was still hard. Sometimes he felt like he’d turn a corner and Johnny would just be gone again.

“Coming,” he said, jogging to catch up with him.

 

* * *

 

There was only one bed in the master bedroom. Peter waited until the Valeria and Bentley were settled down in the second bedroom before he addressed the fact.

“I’ll take the couch,” he said, sighing.

“It’s the least you can do,” Johnny said, looking around with interest. “No, don’t be stupid. It’s big enough for both of us.”

“You don’t mind?” Peter said.

“I’ve shared with Ben plenty,” Johnny said, shrugging. “You’ve got to be more comfortable to sleep with than an actual rock.”

“Sorry,” Peter muttered, hand at the back of his neck.

“Don’t be,” Johnny said, stretching. His shirt rode up an inch. “You saved me from a night spent rooming with Ben. Plus, it’ll be fun, right? Us hanging out? There’s still a bunch of movies I haven’t seen.”

“No romcoms,” Peter said. Johnny flipped him off, middle finger blazing.

“The dead man gets to pick,” he said, grinning. A phantom pang shot through Peter at the words. His own smile fell.

“Yeah, of course. If you want to watch –” he searched his memory for the name of a recent romantic movie, or hell, any recent movie, and came up empty. It was depressing to think about how long it’d been since he’d been to the movies. It had been with Johnny, probably. Few other people were tenacious enough to put up with how regularly Peter cancelled plans, and nobody else could manage to stalk him down on a rooftop and tell him to knock it off, they'd bought two tickets and reserved seats at the nice theater. “—Whatever you want to watch. It’s fine by me.”

Johnny was looking at him funny. He opened his mouth, then shut it, biting at the inside of his cheek like he couldn’t decide whether it was worth saying whatever he’d been about to say.

“Star Trek?” he said after a long moment.

“Are they still making those?” Peter asked.

Johnny rolled his eyes.

“You’re sadder than usual without me around,” he said. He’d meant it as a joke, but Peter wanted to tell him it was true.

They ended up in bed together with the lights off, watching the movie. Johnny shed his tight jeans before they started, not a new sight, and Peter removed his mask and gloves. Peter had squeezed in close, expecting to watch on Johnny’s phone, but Johnny had flicked through a few things and a projection popped up, crystal clear.

“I missed Reed a lot,” he said, grinning at Peter.

Peter could have moved away. He didn’t. It was easier to stretch his arm behind Johnny’s shoulders and let Johnny lounge against him, warm and whole.

They watched the movie mostly in silence – Peter hadn’t seen any since Aunt May had forced the first on him, so Johnny filled him in when it mattered, and he criticized the science where he thought Johnny deserved to know people were wrong.

“This is why I don’t watch movies with Reed,” Johnny said and Peter laughed, enjoying him a whole lot more than the movie.

Johnny’s head was practically on his shoulder. The light of the projection caught on the long sweep of his eyelashes, the surprisingly serious set of his mouth.

“Johnny,” he said, softly, and Johnny twisted to look at him. Suddenly, Peter forgot what he’d been about to say.

“Yeah?”

Their mouths were very close together. Peter could have just leaned in.

There was a scream from the adjacent room. Peter jolted, but Johnny was already moving, abandoning his phone and sprinting into the other room. For a second Peter just sat there, stunned, and then he got up and followed Johnny.

Bentley 23 was sitting up in bed, little shoulders hitched up practically to his ears. Johnny knelt on the edge of the bed, talking to him in a low voice. Bentley was sniffling, hands fisted in the sheets, and he made a mournful little noise when Johnny swiped a tear from his cheek.

Johnny looked up at Peter and mouthed _nightmare_.

Peter sighed, leaning against the doorframe, and let relief overtake him. Nightmares, he could deal with.

“Can I do anything?” he asked.

“Mom,” Valeria said suddenly. Peter startled; he hadn’t even noticed she was awake. She was staring blearily at them, her blonde hair one fluffy tangle. “Take Bentley to Mom.”

Bentley nodded fervently but miserably. He was trembling, just a little.

Johnny glanced up at him. “Peter?”

“Alright, buddy,” Peter said, bending down and swinging Bentley up into his arms. He cradled Bentley’s head against his shoulder. “Let’s go for a little midnight jaunt.”

Valeria slipped out of bed, too, yawning. She clumsily patted at Johnny’s knee and then reached out imperiously for Peter’s hand. He felt warm through and through as he took it; he’d always wanted children someday. It was easy to imagine his future like this, interrupted movie nights and little kids who could run circles around him.

He glanced over his shoulder at Johnny, still sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

Val was the one who led the way down the hall, Peter following behind her while Bentley sniffled and hid his face against Peter’s shirt. Peter knocked on Reed and Sue’s door with his knuckles, hefting Bentley a little higher. The light came on in the room after a second and the door cracked open. He smiled crookedly at Sue over the top of Bentley’s head.

“We’d like to complain about the accommodations,” he said archly. “Not a single ray gun or laser grid in the place.”

Bentley huffed against his neck, not quite a laugh. Peter raised his eyebrows at Sue, nodding when she mouthed _nightmare?_ , so much like her brother in that moment that he was thrown by it.

“He had a nightmare,” Val announced, apparently possessed of none of her mother or uncle’s tact. Peter bit the inside of his cheek not to laugh.

Peter passed Bentley to Sue and he immediately clung to her, arms hanging heavy around her neck.

“Goodnight, Peter,” she said, smiling a little wistfully and smoothing Bentley’s hair back. Val echoed the sentiment, already busy throwing herself down on her parents’ bed.

The door closed, and Peter was left standing there for a long moment, just thinking. Then he turned on his heel and walked back to his and Johnny’s suite.

Johnny was exactly where Peter had left him, absently smoothing down the covers.

“Hey,” Peter said.

“Hey,” Johnny returned, sounding pensive.

“Well,” Peter said after a beat. “Guess he’s not a cleverly disguised Doombot after all. I wondered, after all the hanging around goold ol’ Vic did.”

“He’s just a little kid,” Johnny said, “who was abused by the closest thing he had to a dad. Baby supervillain or not, he’s going to have nightmares.”

“I never thought about it like that,” Peter admitted. “I guess you have a lot of experience with crying kids.”

Johnny made a face. “Reed always wants to explain, and Sue always wants to fix, and Ben tries too hard to be gentle… kids just need someone to be there, sometimes.”

“You’re good at that,” Peter admitted.

Johnny shrugged.

“You know how it is. I used to be the team baby, that’s all. Now everyone’s growing up…” He sighed. “You miss so much in just a few months.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, staring at Johnny. The rest of his words failed him.

“Anyway,” Johnny said, clearing his throat. “Sue’s Mrs. Mom. Always has been. Nobody can talk you down from a nightmare like her.”

“Got experience there, huh?” Peter asked. His nightmares had always been simple things – the people he loved being hurt, and him helpless to stop it. He wondered what woke Johnny up in the middle of the night. Strange things, probably. Things Peter couldn’t even imagine. Johnny had just seen so much of the universe. A short few weeks with the Fantastic Four had been more than enough to show Peter that.

“I was _ten_ , jerk,” Johnny said, rolling his eyes. He pushed himself away from the door, sauntering back towards the bed.

Peter’s spider-sense buzzed a split-second before Johnny stumbled, tripping over his own shoes, hidden by the gloom.

“Watch it!” Peter said, grabbing him before he could fall.

“Nice reflexes,” Johnny said, hands on Peter’s shoulders. “Good to see those haven’t changed.”

Peter, stunned, dropped him unceremoniously onto their bed. Johnny yelped.

“Sorry,” Peter said, flexing his hands. “That was – sorry.”

“What is wrong with you today?” Johnny asked, glaring at him. He reached over and switched on the light, flooding the room. “First you break that guy’s wrist and get yourself arrested, and now…”

“You’re tripping my spider-sense,” Peter admitted, feeling hot all over. “I thought it was a one off, but you just did it again.”

Johnny snorted. “Right, your weird danger sense. What else is new?”

“No,” Peter said. “ _You’re_ tripping it. I mean, not you, but if there’s a threat to you – Johnny. Do you know how my spider-sense works?”

“Sure,” Johnny said lazily, sprawling out on his side and propping his head up on one hand. “A spider bit you one time and now, whenever bad things happen, an air raid siren goes off in your head, because _that_ makes a whole lot of sense.”

“No,” Peter said, as patiently as he could manage. “A spider bit me one time and now I have a precognitive danger sense – for _me_. Danger towards me, Johnny, do you get what I’m saying?”

“Almost never,” Johnny said.

“It’s just for me, Johnny,” Peter said, moving to lean over him. “It only works for me and I’m going out of my head here because all of a sudden it’s for you, too.”

“It’s never gone off for anyone else before?” Johnny said, sounding curious.

“No,” Peter said, before he realized that wasn’t strictly true. “Once. When Mary Jane and I were living together, I sort of – developed a sense for her. Like this.”

He hadn’t thought of that for a long time. He remembered the time she’d broken a glass and he’d stuck an arm out to keep her from the glass before he’d even really registered what had happened. The time she'd been so stressed about their finances than he'd jolted up in bed even though he'd just been shot and thrown off a building by the Vulture. Normal relationship stuff.

“Oh,” Johnny said, blinking up at him. “You love me.”

“What?” Peter said, gaping.

Johnny sat straight up, pretty face marred by a frown. “It’s the only explanation. You love me.”

“I don’t understand how we got from Point A to diving straight over Niagara Falls,” Peter said. “Johnny, you’re my best friend, of course I love you.”

“I’ve been your best friend for years,” Johnny said, turning towards him. His eyes were wide and alarmingly blue. His mouth was full and pink. His high cheekbones were more apparent than ever, face a little gaunt from his stint in the Negative Zone. On the list of the most beautiful people Peter had ever seen, he was still in the top five for sure. “Your spider-sense never buzzed around me before.”

“No,” Peter admitted, a rare answer: both honest and monosyllabic. He was too stunned to speak, mind turning over on itself.

“Peter,” Johnny said. He put his hand on Peter’s knee, a veritable inferno, and squeezed. “Why am I tripping your spider-sense now?”

The first touch was gentle, just his fingertips underneath Johnny’s chin. An anchor to keep him from getting swept away when he leaned in and brushed his mouth against Johnny’s.

“Yeah,” Johnny sighed, sliding his hand up Peter’s thigh. “That’s what I thought.”

That snapped something inside of Peter. He grabbed Johnny up, manhandling him against himself, until Johnny was kneeling on the bed with his thighs on either side of Peter, Peter’s hand blazing against his back.

“You died on me,” he said.

Johnny stared down at him, blue eyes blown wide. His hands rested tentatively at Peter’s shoulders. “Not on purpose.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Peter said. “It wasn’t supposed to happen to _you_. You died on me and you left that message. You said you _love_ me, Johnny, how is that fair?”

“Didn’t have to be fair,” Johnny said, touching Peter’s cheek. “It just had to be true.”

“I love you back,” Peter blurted out, reaching up to take Johnny’s hand in his own.

“You think I doubted that?” Johnny asked. “You think for one second I thought you didn’t love me enough to take my place? To be there for my family?” He grinned, bright and brilliant, the kind of smile Peter hadn’t been able to coax out of him since the return. The kind of smile that made Peter feel like he’d trapped sunshine in his chest. “I just wasn’t sure you were attracted to me.”

“Well, you’ve been telling me I’m stupid for years,” Peter said. “Here’s your proof.”

“Some proof,” Johnny challenged, eyes blazing, and that was all it took. Peter slid his hand to the back of Johnny’s neck and kissed him, real and deep this time, not a chaste thing like before, keeping it up until Johnny broke away, breathing hard.

“Better?” Peter asked him, stroking his thumb in circles at the base of Johnny’s neck.

“Maybe,” Johnny said. “You’d better do it again, just in case.”

Peter grabbed him by the hips and pulled him into his lap, leaning back against the headboard and tilting his head up to kiss him. For a long while, that was all it was, Johnny’s tongue in his mouth and his hands slipping up under Johnny’s t-shirt, the fabric so soft it felt like a cloud against Peter’s hands. He spread his fingers and held him, thinking about how he almost hadn’t had this. How narrowly he could have missed it.

How incredibly lucky he was to have Johnny back in his life at all, never mind sitting in his lap, rolling his hips against Peter’s.

He’d been planning on letting Johnny take the lead, let him decide where the night would go, as much or as little as he wanted. Johnny, apparently, had other ideas. Peter could roll with that.

“Pete, I want you,” Johnny said, tugging at Peter’s shirt. He rocked in Peter’s lap, grinding down on Peter’s hardening cock. Peter groaned. “Please. Don’t make me beg.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, swallowing harshly. “Maybe some other night.”

He shucked the top half of his uniform first, toppling Johnny over and onto his back so he could peel himself out of the tights. He hiked Johnny’s long legs up and apart, slid his hands down the back of Johnny’s boxer briefs. He squeezed his ass when Johnny moaned, sliding Johnny’s underwear down his thighs, revealing his hard cock.

Johnny removed his own shirt, briefly getting tangled in it before tossing it over the side of the bed. He tried to pull Peter down on top of him again, hands insistent. Peter wanted to look, though. He slid his fingers through Johnny’s, gaze sweeping over his face, down his long neck and over his chest. He was paler than he’d been before the Zone, denied sunlight, and his blush stood out on his fair skin. He was pink all the way down his chest.

“You’re really beautiful,” Peter said, just taking a moment to drink him in, real and alive and underneath Peter. Johnny rolled his eyes and huffed, turning his head away, and Peter cracked up. “What? What did I do?” When Johnny didn’t immediately tell him, his laughter faded. “Hey, come on. What’d I do wrong?”

“You don’t have to, I don’t know, lie,” Johnny muttered. “I mean, I’m still leagues ahead of you, but I’m not exactly…” He swallowed. “I was hotter, before.”

Before the Negative Zone, he meant. He was different, that was true – thinner, something brittle in his posture, quiet where before he would’ve been loud. A little more serious, and that was only what he was letting Peter see. Johnny was a much better actor off the stage than on. Two years, Peter thought, heartbroken and furious with the universe. Two years.

He turned Johnny’s head back towards him, put their foreheads together so Johnny had nowhere to look but in his eyes.

“You’re really, really, really,” he paused for effect, and because he could already feel Johnny fight not to start laughing. Two things in his life had always come easily to him: making Johnny Storm angry, and making Johnny Storm laugh. “ _Really_ beautiful. Then. Now. Always, no matter what.”

The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitched. “Are you saying you like me for my personality?”

“I’m saying you’re good-looking enough for me to overlook it,” Peter said, barely holding back his own laughter. He stroked Johnny’s hair, feeling soft and sentimental all of a sudden. “You believe me?”

Johnny’s nod was jerky. Peter returned it a little mockingly, laughing when Johnny growled and pressed their mouths together. He settled between Johnny’s spread legs, forcing them open a little wider.

“Oh! My jeans,” Johnny said, breaking the kiss. “Front right pocket.”

Peter, more than a little distracted with running his hands up the backs of Johnny’s bare thighs, muttered, “What?”

Johnny slapped at his shoulder, not hard enough for it to sting. “Check the front right pocket of my jeans, genius.”

It was so hard to let go of Johnny long enough to lean over the side of the bed and fish his discarded pants off the floor, hard to concentrate on that when Johnny was lying naked and on his back, gaze sweeping over Peter.

He pulled out a handful of currency – not solely from Earth – and chapstick, and he was just wondering how Johnny managed to cram all this stuff into the pockets of jeans that looked painted on when he found the lube.

“Really?” he said, mouth working even as desire curled hot in his veins. “On a _field trip_ , Johnny?”

“I, uh,” Johnny said, gaze fixed on the ceiling. “See, there’s kind of a good bar scene on this planet…”

“Wait, I’m sorry, hold on,” Peter said, squinting at him. “Did you – did you tag along on a family field trip so you could break away and get laid?”

“It’s been a while!” Johnny said, throwing his hands up. “And what do you know, “weren’t you dead last week?” isn’t exactly the aphrodisiac everyone in New York seems to think it is."

"Wait," Peter said. "Wait, did I -- did you know that guy from earlier?"

Johnny looked faintly guilty. "Maybe? I mean, I _could've_. It's entirely possible that I met him after a couple of drinks once and --"

Peter groaned, hanging his head. He still couldn't manage to be sorry he'd broken that guy's wrist.

"Don't get so judgy! I just wanted – I just _wanted._ " Johnny bit out, scowling up at him. "Okay?”

There were embers in his eyes. Peter was more than a little overcome at the idea of Johnny wanting.

“We can fix that,” he said, mouth gone dry.

“You know, I’m hearing a lot of talk…” Johnny said, head tilted to the side. Peter growled, pinning him down again and capturing his mouth.

“Why didn’t you?” Peter asked. “Go out, find somebody --?”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Johnny said. He bit Peter’s lip in admonishment. “I had _you_.”

That was almost too much for him. He knocked his forehead against Johnny’s gently, then started to kiss his way down his neck and across his collarbones, chasing that blush.

“I should be flattered, huh?” he murmured against Johnny’s skin. “Movie night with me is better than whatever weird alien sex you were planning on?”

“It’s taken a pretty good turn, right?” Johnny said. “Since you got me alone?"

"My cunning plan all along," Peter said, grinning.

"Come on already," Johnny said, arching up against him. "What are you going to do, talk to me all night?”

“Don’t give me ideas,” he said, but then Johnny was taking Peter’s hand, guiding it up his thigh and back until there was no mistaking what he wanted. Peter shuddered as his fingers brushed Johnny's tight hole.

“Come on,” Johnny said again, chin tipped up and gaze demanding.

“Yeah,” Peter said, shakily. He opened the lube. “Yeah, okay, hot stuff. No more waiting.”

He worked his fingers in and out of Johnny, opening him up as efficiently as he could stand. He wanted to do this for hours, web Johnny down and take him apart. But just the brush of their lips had made Johnny sigh like Peter had done something special; Peter was afraid to ask how long it had been since he’d had somebody touch him like this. Before the Negative Zone, almost definitely. He wasn’t bringing that into their bed, not now when he had just gotten three fingers in Johnny and Johnny was brokenly threatening to set him on fire if he didn’t get on with it.

“Why are you so good at that?” Johnny asked, one hand twisted in the sheets by his head. “Can’t you suck at _anything_ \--”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, laughing a little hysterically. He twisted his fingers, just to prove a point, and Johnny gasped, head thrown back. “What about right now would be better if I was bad in bed?”

“I’d be feeling superior,” Johnny bit out. It didn’t stop him from rocking back onto Peter’s fingers, trying to get them deeper. Peter squeezed his thigh and pulled his fingers away.

“Why break tradition?” he asked, mouthing at his throat. "I'm going to fuck you now."

Johnny groaned. " _Finally_."

He pressed the blunt head of his cock to Johnny’s hole and started to push in, that tight heat all consuming. Johnny’s mouth fell open, a moan low in chest. Peter felt it as much as he heard it.

“You good?” Peter asked, trembling a little with the effort of not thrusting up into Johnny all in one go. It had been a while for him, too, his recent life a buzz of work, other work, and Future Foundation work, no time for romance. Or so he’d thought. Johnny felt so perfect around him, and Peter couldn’t imagine ever breaking away from this. Every place he touched Johnny seemed to thrum with the force of everything he felt.

Johnny nodded fervently, eyes shut tight.

“This,” he said, head back and panting, hands skating down Peter’s back. His voice had gone all breathy; Peter had never heard him like that before. “This is what I wanted, I wanted somebody strong, somebody who’d hold me down, make me forget –”

“No,” Peter said, shaking his head. “No, not forget. Remember. The good times, just the good times. Every single time I ever drove you crazy –”

Johnny made a noise that was half a moan and half a laugh, eyes shut tight. 

“You’re driving me crazy right now,” he said, grabbing Peter by the back of the neck and pulling him down for another kiss, Johnny’s open mouth like lava under his. His heels dug into the small of Peter's back, urging him deeper. “Please, Peter, please –”

“How do you want it?” Peter asked, rocking his hips into Johnny, shallow little thrusts. If Johnny wanted someone to take control, well, Peter was his man. “Fast? Or slow.”

Johnny moaned at “slow”, eyelashes fluttering.

“Slow,” Peter said, practically into Johnny’s mouth. He rocked in deeper, keeping an iron grip on his own instincts, the burning need to grab Johnny by the hips and take him hard, all animal desire. “Alright, pretty boy. Look at me?”

Johnny shuddered, eyes drifting open. Peter locked their gazes as he slid all the way in, Johnny’s arching underneath him. Peter didn’t want to blink, didn’t want to miss a single second as he started to move, long slow thrusts, hard enough to rock the bed. Johnny was breathing hard, moaning at every thrust, swearing viciously when Peter spread his thighs wider so he could get even deeper.

“I love you back,” Peter told him, suddenly overcome with it. Johnny made a choked noise, briefly throwing his arm over his eyes. Peter dropped his mouth to Johnny’s, kissing him off-center, again and again. “When I heard your message, I thought that, you know? I do, I love you –”

“Peter,” Johnny gasped out, mouth working silently and fingers digging into Peter’s shoulders. Peter savored the sting where his nails dug in. “I can’t, I can’t –”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Peter said, getting a hand between them and wrapping it around Johnny’s hard cock. He could feel him, right at the edge, and started to stroke fast and hard. “It’s all good, gorgeous, come on.”

Johnny came hard, clenching down around Peter’s cock and spilling all over Peter’s hand and his own stomach. Peter fucked him through it, his mouth over Johnny’s, swallowing the noises he made, biting that red mouth.

“Peter,” Johnny mumbled with a little laugh, boneless and pliant underneath him. He said his name like something special, sliding a hand over his own eyes. “Oh.”

“You’re so hot,” Peter said. The shallow scratches Johnny had left behind would fade before morning; Peter felt a little mournful at the notion. “Anyone ever tell you that before?”

“Once or twice,” Johnny said, voice thick.

“I should just keep you in bed, you know?” Peter said, touching his face, the corner of his mouth. “With me, just…”

He broke off with a curse. Johnny laughed, a dazed sound, nodding distantly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that sounds… Peter, are you gonna –”

He cut off with a high whine as Peter thrust into him again, harder this time, the headboard banging against the wall rhythmically as Peter fucked him. He scrabbled at Peter’s shoulders, legs locked tight around him.

When Peter came, it was with a shout, his face buried against Johnny’s shoulder and Johnny’s breathing loud in his ear. He came down slowly, all sensation: Johnny’s ragged breathing and Johnny’s warm hands and Johnny’s spread thighs. The hitch of Johnny’s chest, the little bitten off noise as Peter pulled his softening cock out of him.

Johnny was just staring at him, his blue eyes wide. He was flushed down to his chest and covered in Peter’s sweat and his own come, hair a messy gold halo against the pillows. He was looking at Peter like he was waiting for Peter to say something, apprehension in his eyes like he thought Peter might do something terrible like come to his senses. As if there was any chance of that.

“Some honeymoon, huh?” he murmured, knocking his forehead against Johnny’s.

Johnny laughed out loud, curling his fingers in Peter’s sweaty hair.

 

* * *

 

“What are you thinking about?” Johnny asked softly in the dark, yawning. He tilted his head so his forehead pressed up against Peter’s. His hair smelled nice, like the shampoo they'd found in the shower. Peter was running his fingertips up and down Johnny’s arm, just barely touching. “All serious, like you didn’t just have a _great_ night.”

“Nothing,” Peter said, shaking his head. Their noses brushed, and then their lips, and then they were kissing again, long and deep. Peter was pretty sure kissing Johnny was his new favorite hobby, move over webslinging. “Nothing.”

“Yeah right,” Johnny said. He rested his hand on Peter’s chest, rubbing little circles. “Did I meet you yesterday? I can _feel_ you tying yourself in knots. What?”

Peter sighed and shifted, draping an arm around Johnny’s waist and tugging him closer. Johnny went easily, slinging one of his long legs over Peter’s. He made a quiet, questioning noise, kissing the corner of Peter’s mouth, dragging his lips down to his chin. Peter savored the heat of him.

“I can keep you here all night, bug brain,” Johnny teased, but then he hid his face against Peter’s neck, his breath warm against Peter’s throat. “Tell me?”

Peter’s other arm was trapped underneath Johnny. He cupped his hand to the back of Johnny’s head, threading his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t rescue you,” he confessed.

“I’m sorry, which of us ended up in alien jail again?” Johnny asked, laughing against Peter’s skin. Peter rolled his eyes, tugging a little at Johnny’s hair.

“Not now. Before,” he said. Johnny tensed in his arms. “When you were in the Zone. I just… accepted it.”

“Not your fault,” Johnny said after a beat. “Not your territory, either.”

“I should’ve,” Peter said, breaking off with a sigh. “I don’t know. I should’ve tried to come for you.”

“How?” Johnny asked.

Guilt twinged in Peter’s chest. His thumb ran restless over Johnny’s hip.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Johnny was quiet for another minute, just breathing against Peter’s throat. Then he shoved at Peter’s chest. Peter went with it, rolling over obediently, and Johnny settled astride him, his palms still pressed to Peter’s chest. Peter put his hands at Johnny’s waist, just to hold him.

“Always have to be the big hero, huh? You re-wired your own stupid super power for me, you can rescue me next time,” Johnny said. His hair hung in his face and his expression was so naked in the bright cold alien moonlight. The sheets had gotten all tangled up in his legs. “Do you know what it meant to me, that you were the first person I saw on the other side of the gate?”

“And then you insulted my outfit,” Peter said, letting fondness color his voice. He leaned up for another kiss.

“It’s growing on me,” Johnny said in the little spaces between them. “But I think I like you better out of it.”

“I don’t even rate the good pickup lines now, huh?” Peter said, laughing. But Johnny only sighed.

“I told you I wanted you to stay with my family,” Johnny said. “Thank you for listening to me for once in your whole entire life.”

“Okay,” Peter said, gripping Johnny by the back of his neck, kissing him again, harder and deeper this time. “Okay, flamebrain. You win.”

“Really?” Johnny hummed. “That’s weird, because you’re the one who’s about to get lucky.”

“Ohh, Torch,” Peter laughed. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

 

* * *

 

“I can carry my own bag, jerk.”

Peter shouldered it, ignoring Johnny’s attempts to snag it. He reached out in the same movement and snagged Johnny’s sunglasses, settling them on his own face. Johnny yelped in outrage, trying to snatch them back. Peter just slid a hand to the small of his back and kissed him.

“Fine,” Johnny mumbled, eyes fluttering shut. “You can take the bag.”

“Like you don’t love me being your pack mule,” Peter hummed.

Johnny still took his sunglasses back when they broke apart.

“What are we going to tell your family?” Peter asked.

Johnny shrugged, putting his hands on Peter’s shoulders.

“I did leave you my spot,” he said, shrugging. “I was pretty adamant about it – I don’t know if he told you, but I left Reed a separate message about it. And after your show yesterday, I don’t think they’ll be surprised…”

“They’re going to make fun of us the whole trip back, aren’t they?” Peter said.

Johnny snickered, taking Peter’s hand. “They’re not stopping after we get back to Earth, Webhead. But you signed up for this, remember? All part of being in the family.”

“I didn’t sign up for anything,” Peter pointed out. “ _You_ signed _me_ up.”

Johnny smiled at him, real and open. “And it worked. It worked, right? It feels right?”

Peter let him pull him through the door, into the hall where the rest of the family was waiting.

“What do you think?” he asked.

**Author's Note:**

> Peter's spider-sense actually did recently go off over danger towards Johnny (Uncanny Avengers 20), but the first few scenes of this were written before that happened! Where's my prize, Marvel. (The prize would be them kissing.) 
> 
> As always, I'm on [tumblr](http://traincat.tumblr.com)!


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